Building Bridges
by Athena Leigh
Summary: Old memories give ObiWan the chance to deal with his present and find hope for the future. Not slash.


**Building Bridges**

The door swished open, and the current tenant and the new tenant entered.

Obi-Wan dropped his bag and headed to the kitchen for a drink. Frankly, he wasn't really thirsty, but he needed something to settle his stomach. As he held the glass, his hand shook. He was still upset, and he wondered how long it would last. _Forever?_

"Anakin, do you want something to eat?" he called to the other room, but there was no response. He walked out to the common room, and Anakin was not there. He checked his room and down the hallway, then went back to check the refresher, but Anakin was not there. He finally checked the last place he thought the boy would be, and that is where he found him.

While Obi-Wan thought it was most disrespectful of Anakin to go into his late Master's room without asking, Anakin had deemed it safe as he guessed Qui-Gon would not have minded at all. He rather thought it far more hideous a crime to enter Obi-Wan's room without permission, though it was shortly to become his own.

He froze in the doorway, shocked by the audacity of his new charge, petrified by his boldness. Anakin was not moving much either, kneeling on Qui-Gon's oversized, soft bed, gazing at the holopics on the wall above it, all containing Obi-Wan somewhere within their borders. Eventually, Obi-Wan managed a few steps toward him. "Anakin," he croaked out hoarsely, barely breaking the boys concentration. He stepped to the bedside and saw the image that had captured his focus, frowning slightly as he reached out to remove it, sitting next to Anakin on the bed.

Anakin turned and let his feet dangle next to him. "Hello, Master. I was just looking at Master Qui-Gon's holopics. They all have you in them. Is that one you too?" He pointed to the one Obi-Wan held.

A sad ghost of a smile flittered on the young face as he blinked back the tears. "Yes, Anakin. Yes, that is me, Qui-Gon and me."

"I didn't know you were with him for so long."

Obi-Wan blindly nodded. "Yes, for a very long time." He stared at the picture of Qui-Gon clutching the form of a very small boy in one of the medward's beds. "That day... that was the day," he inhaled deeply, "when he realized how much he loved me."

"It was? Why was that?"

Anakin was a very curious boy, but he knew it was all well-intentioned, and he knew that they both cared about Qui-Gon, so he explained. "After he lost his second apprentice," he glanced at the boy and saw by the look in his eyes that was another story he would also have to explain at another time, "Qui-Gon lost himself. He was very sad, and so he didn't act like himself at all. He wasn't the kind, gentle, caring person we know he is... was. Master Yoda, as he often does, came up with a plan to get him back, and made Qui-Gon work in the creche. Now Qui-Gon was always good with children, and they all loved him so much, but he was still sad. That all changed one day when one of those little children got very sick, and Qui-Gon realized how much he loved that little boy..."

_Why was Yoda doing this? He asked himself the same question every day at that time as his feet took him toward the same place, blank expression on his face, empty heart crying out for someone to fill it muffled by his anger and stubborn rage._

_He reached the location. Through the doorway, all the crechelings were playing, waiting for him, their caretakers watching them, playing with them, giving them attention. Qui-Gon knew he should be happy, but all he wanted was to be alone, not to expose these children to his dark feelings he knew were so close to the surface. Yet he was not allowed to walk away, the repercussions would not let him. The children would not let him. So he stepped over the threshold._

_Immediately, he felt something was wrong. There was a second-long beat before he was swamped with children, but in that second he knew something was missing. That was the time when every day, the tiny red-haired boy ran to him, arms up, waiting for a hug. Not having that little ceremony left him feeling empty, though he did not understand how since he was already that way._

_Prying himself from the rest of the younglings, he stepped to the nearest Master and asked her where was the young boy. Mola explained that Obi-Wan had awoken screaming in the middle of the night and had been taken to the Healers, where Fren had examined him and said he had caught Dilomnia, probably from a food infected with it. The disease was quite strong, especially against a small child. He would be there for some while._

_Qui-Gon listened to no more and nearly bolted to the Healers. He did not stop until his hands were flat against the window of the room where the small boy lay recuperating. Desperate eyes looked to Fren as he came to his friend's side, eyes red from sacrificing sleep to take care of his charge. Qui-Gon's own crystalline orbs begged him to say the boy would be all right. Please._

_"Qui-Gon, I just don't know. He's so young, I don't know if he's strong enough to fight it. All we can do is wait. I'm sorry." He put a hand on the stormy Master's shoulder. "Go to him."_

_Face awash in a newly discovered agony, Qui-Gon nodded and slowly opened the door to the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching tentatively for the boy. Obi-Wan's cheeks were bathed in tears. He must be in so much pain, Qui-Gon thought. He knew how it felt; in all his years, he had been through so much physical as well as emotional torment._

_Quickly he lay down and held the lad. "Obi-Wan..." He was sobbing now; he did not think he would ever care for anyone again, and this was exactly the reason why, but there he was again, and he suddenly realized how much the little one meant to him. "Obi-Wan, my little one, I'm here. Master Qui-Gon came, came to be with you, just the same as every day, because he cares about you. You know that, don't you? I care about you... so much." He looked at the tiny fists curled in agony, touching the small hands he had grown so used to, so fond of. "Obi-Wan... Iloveyoudon'tleaveme."_

_He cradled the boy against him, pleading with the Force to save him, offering anything and everything he could give for the boy's life. He glanced up and saw Fren looking over them._

_The Healer could not help smiling at them despite the dire situation, for in those drowning eyes, he saw the anger and anguish washed away and replaced with love and hope. Then they closed, and he and Obi-Wan were one heart, one glowing beacon in the Force. And Fren felt it was a moment that should be remembered, and walked to the end of the bed, and froze the moment in time._

"And that little boy was you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I was only three years old."

"And Master Qui-Gon stayed with you until you were all better?"

A sad smile quirked, rivers flowed. "He stayed with me until the end." Obi-Wan slid off the bed, prepared to leave. He did not want to think about Qui-Gon any more until it did not hurt so much.

"Master." The call stopped him, and Anakin slid down also, walking to Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms around him, resting against him. "I miss him too."

And Obi-Wan did not hold back any longer. He had not let himself cry at the funeral, had not let Anakin see how much he wanted Qui-Gon back. But the boy understood, he already knew. Obi-Wan touched the back of the moppy head that rested against his stomach, suddenly seeing something in his own story that he needed to learn. He had to let go, to let the new faces into his life. Holding on only hurt him. He would always love Qui-Gon, but he was gone. He looked at the picture again, blurred before his eyes. _I love you, Qui-Gon, and I'll always miss you so much. Good-bye, my Master._ "Come on, Anakin, let's make you at home." He hung the picture back above his bed, and knew that somewhere Qui-Gon was smiling and that he would always love Obi-Wan.


End file.
